Yellow Roses
by PPP SSC
Summary: Soren hated yellow roses. Ike was rose colorblind. Soren/Ike


Yellow Roses

There were many things Soren hated. He hated the world and society's cruel ways. He hated humans and sub-humans alike, though for different reasons. He hated the goddess for designing his fate so rigidly that there was no escape. He hated himself; above all, for the fact that he would never be good enough for the one he loved most. The one he loved as an anomaly. There was almost nothing Soren loved. But he loved Ike.

It was not easy for him to admit to himself at first; he had passed it off as raging hormones, something that would pass. He had no qualms about being _attracted _to Ike—he was already damned, why would this other step make a difference? But love was something he didn't want. Love breaks up friendships, and friendships are very important when they are anomalies. But the more Soren thought about Ike as his only friend, the more he loved him. Overcome with emotions, he had run from the scene a few times when Ike spoke to him gently. Soren didn't want to contemplate what would happen if he misinterpreted Ike's gestures.

Ike offered Soren a rose the other day. It was of the most depressing variety. The sunshiny color of the petals ironically juxtaposed against the bitter connotations. Ike had given Soren a yellow rose.

Soren _hated _the yellow rose. He hated it with all his heart. He knew Ike had thought it a kind gesture, but Soren knew the truth. A yellow rose was merely a sugarcoated evil. The "friendship rose" it was called. What use could there be for a friendship rose, when such love roses the color of the irises on Soren's face were available just as easily? He heard the connotations playing in his head: _"You're ugly"_

"_There's someone else you don't know about."_

"_You're so dumb for ever getting your hopes up."_

He reluctantly took the rose by the stem, and squeezed hard on its thorns. Displacing the pain was all he could hope for at this moment. "Thank you…" he said insincerely as his eyes welled up with woeful tears. He ran away clutching the yellow rose in his hand. Soren began to tear all his love poems that he would never let Ike read to shreds with arcane gusts of air, tears falling to the ground even now as he held the rose aloft in his bloodied hand. "Curse you!" he shouted vainly at the yellow rose. He knew the flower had no audition, but he had to displace his anger at Ike. But he knew it wasn't really Ike he was mad at deep down. It was himself.

_I hate you! You ugly, worthless pathetic creature. You were never good enough for Ike and you knew it, but now look at you! You're blubbering like an idiot and yelling at a stupid _flower. _Oh if only Shinon could see you now he'd probably send you to a loony bin, _Soren thought to himself, still crying helplessly as though someone had hurt him. Someone had hurt him. Ike had hurt him. But he hadn't meant to.

Ike, unlike Soren, never thought about the colors of the roses. Roses were all beautiful and none could be more beautiful than any others—sound familiar? Ike's aversion to racial discrimination even went as far as the colors of roses. Ike never studied the "meanings" of colors—and even if he had, what would make him think Soren cared so much? Not knowing what was wrong, he went to ask Oscar for advice.

"Oscar?" he asked.

The older man was happy to oblige. "What is the matter?"

Ike said while blushing, "It's Soren… I wanted to see him smile so I bought him a rose. But when I gave it to him, it looked like it hurt his feelings. I didn't mean to hurt his feelings. I love him…"

Oscar asked, "What color was the rose?"

"I don't remember, it was a pretty color…" Ike said.

"Was it _yellow?" _Oscar asked, pretty sure he knew what went on.

Ike muttered, "Is that bad?"

"Ike, yellow is the color of friendship and Soren…" Oscar began.

Ike looked at his shoes and said, "Would take it as an insult." He looked back up at Oscar and said determinedly, "How do I fix it?"

"By buying him another rose… Ike how much do you love Soren?"

"I love him… more than anything," he asserted after not much thought. "What color expresses that?"

"Red," Oscar answered, with Ike looking stupid.

Ike shuffled his feet and said, "Of course, the rose the color of his eyes… why didn't I think of it before?" Boyd overheard in the other room, and the next day Titania was confused why Boyd painted a white rose green and gave it to her.

Ike bought an entire bouquet of red roses, wrapped in a delicate white lace, and a layer of blue satin. It was costly, but it was worth it. _Soren _was worth it. He was stopped dead in his tracks by Aimee. "Oh, Ike! Are those for me?" she asked, but only rhetorically, because before Ike could answer she swiped away those roses and smelled them. "They're beautiful!"

"They're not for you," Ike said, snatching back the bouquet. "They're for Soren."

Aimee was confused. "Perhaps you meant to purchase the yellow ones?" she asked.

"Oh, no," Ike said, "That's a mistake I'm never gonna make again." Aimee understood and questioned her taste in men.

Ike left carrying the bouquet. He found Soren standing on a bridge. Tears hit the river as he finally let go of his unwanted gift, hand badly bloodied from holding it for so long. Ike walked over and wrapped his arms around Soren. "Don't tease me, Ike…" Soren complained.

"Tease you?" Ike questioned, although he knew exactly why Soren thought that, "I wouldn't dream of it," he said, picking the bouquet off of the ground by his feet and handing it to Soren.

"They're…red…" Soren said.

Ike pushed them over, and said, "This is the message I wanted to send all along."

Soren looked at the delicate scarlet petals of the flowers and said, "I love them." Soren's tear-streaked cheeks moved upward curving his mouth into a smile. Ike took Soren's bloodied hand in his own and wrapped it in the satin from the bouquet. They stared into each other's eyes and plunged into a sweet kiss. Ike held Soren tightly. The latter moaned gently as he lost his footing.

"I love you, Soren," Ike finally admitted.

Soren responded, "The feeling is _more _than mutual." Seven beautiful women stood by the bridge. Six of them sighed for Ike, but one sighed for Soren. "Well, we all know that moments only go uninterrupted in fairy tales… who's watching us?" The women ran away.

Soren loved red roses. They were pure. Sincere. Romantic. They represented the relationship he had wanted all along. But Soren hated the red roses Ike received from others. Even though he generally threw them out, the jealousy still made it there. It was the Strongest Man in the World Contest today, so Soren stayed at home with the children and Rhys.

"Congratulations," Mist said, "Out of all the people he could have picked, my brother singled you out."

Soren blushed. "Well, he…uhh…" he stammered, now embarrassed by the prospect of Ike being _his. _

Mist pulled out of her pocket a yellow rose. "I found this in a bank and I thought I'd give it to you."

Soren took the yellow rose, this time with no hesitation. Mist was expressing friendship, and that's all he asked for from her. There were few things in the world that Soren loved, but he loved Ike, and Ike's kin, and Ike's kin's gifts of friendship. Soren loved the yellow rose.


End file.
